A fifth-grade bully, a blossoming romance, a late-night crash
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How fallen from them, their blood-matted fur,
eyes urine yellow and live with knowledge.
Your body slackened, post-fang, post-sinew;
how dull the arrowed bulb of your nose. All day
you have stalked and wagged around the yard.
After our meal, its quieted clatter, the house glows
against the deepening sky. The trees disappear
into the woods. Out there whiskers pluck
to danger, hungry mouths begin to wet.
What light the tamed moon has kept for itself
glistens on the pack’s withers, their roan pelts,
the terrible claws. The sleep of a home
is forgetful sleep: when, from across miles
of wood and soil, they howl their quest,
you perk your sudden ears as if to comprehend
a language turned to gibberish, irreconcilable.
Though in your dreams you bay and twitch, you feast.